Just a Little Fun
by SoulKinkTwins
Summary: Moriarty tricks Sherlock into believing he's kidnapped John. Then he kidnaps Sherlock. After all, Moriarty just wants to have a little fun... M/M, handcuffs, blindfolds, dubcon. Please read and review!


**AN(Molly): This was the first smut I've ever written. Lena helped encourage me to finish it by forcing me to send her updates once about every 15 minutes. I hope you guys enjoy it.**

**Warnings: Handcuffs, dubcon, blindfolds, slight D/s. Explicit M/M. **

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><p>"John, could you pass me that pen?"<p>

Sherlock waited for a moment, but there was no response. John must have left again while Sherlock was deep in thought. Normally, Sherlock thought nothing of it. It happened all the time. This time, however, was different. Sherlock opened his eyes, suddenly standing up and grabbing his coat. John was in trouble.

His near-frantic thoughts were interrupted by his phone's text alert. Sherlock almost ignored it, but he realized that it could be John. He whipped the phone out of his pocket and slid it open to read the text.

_Oh dearie me, people do get so attached to their pets. JM_

Sherlock froze. Moriarty could do anything he wanted, to anyone he wanted except…

_He isn't a 'pet.' SH_

Sherlock began to search the apartment for clues, for signs that could lead him to where John went to, and how to find where Moriarty might have taken him.

_Finding him isn't the game, my dear Sherlock. Getting him back is. JM_

_I could easily find out where you've taken him and have Lestrade there in minutes. SH_

_But we both know that would spoil all the fun. JM_

_You know where to find me. JM_

And he did. Sherlock threw his coat on and ran down the stairs, raising his arm to call for a taxi. He stepped inside, and-

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><p>"Hello!" The word, which would normally sound cheery, seemed strangely sinister when coming from the mouth of James Moriarty. "Glad you're finally awake!"<p>

Sherlock blinked, eyes adjusting to the harsh light. The room was completely nondescript- as if Moriarty had designed it so that Sherlock couldn't deduce anything from it. Of course it was. He was dealing with Moriarty here. A shift in the way he was sitting revealed that he was handcuffed, with his arms behind the chair. His ankles were cuffed as well.

"You're probably wondering why I've got you here." Each syllable was emphasized by a step on the ground that was somewhere between a skip and a step.

Sherlock didn't reply. He stared at the man in front of him, his brain computing at a mile a minute.

"I just want to have a little _fun." _By this point, Moriarty had somehow ended up with his face directly in Sherlock's. They were practically breathing each other's air. Moriarty glanced down, as if somehow transfixed by Sherlock's lips. He moved close, so impossibly close, so close that Sherlock could almost feel them on his own-

And just like that, they were gone.

Sherlock closed his eyes and let out the breath he didn't realize he had been holding, letting out his confusion along with it. So this was what Moriarty wanted. A simple, physical act. Sherlock had to admit, it seemed beneath Moriarty. But on another level, it seemed to make perfect sense. The need to connect with someone who understands you, who truly understands what makes your brain work. Sherlock understood it all too well.

The feeling of a presence behind him and the soft wafting of hot breath on his ear caused Sherlock to shiver slightly, opening his eyes. "I'm going to fuck you so hard you aren't going to walk straight for _days._ I'm going to claim you, mark you as mine. And there's nothing you can do about it." The whispered words sent a shudder down Sherlock's spine.

Moriarty walked around the chair until he was straddling the taller man, leaning forward to breathe into his ear. "And then I'm going to do it again. Until your throat gets hoarse from screaming my name."

Sherlock groaned, his head tipping backwards. Moriarty took the advantage to plant his mouth on the man's neck, sucking and biting. Both men could feel the growing hardness of the other. Sherlock gently thrust upwards, seeking more friction. Moriarty chuckled and backed away from the man, eliciting a small whimper. He walked behind him and picked something up, but Sherlock couldn't turn his head enough to see exactly what. His questions were answered when something soft was placed over his eyes – _his scarf – _and tied behind his head.

There was a long pause after the scarf was wrapped around his eyes before anything more happen. Sherlock began to squirm uncomfortably-

"Ah, ah, ah! Don't… move." Moriarty's voice seemed to be coming from behind him slightly, to the left.

It took all of Sherlock's will not to move when he felt something cool and sharp trailing down his neck, to the collar of his shirt. He felt a small tug where the knife made the first cut into the fabric, and then he felt the cool metal trailing down his chest. He couldn't help the involuntary shudder when the knife reached his stomach.

"My shirt does have buttons, you know," Sherlock drawled.

"Oh but this is so much more fun, wouldn't you agree?" Moriarty finished cutting down the front of the shirt and began to work on cutting the sleeves open so that he wouldn't have to remove Sherlock's cuffs.

Sherlock found that his mouth was too dry to form a proper answer,

Moriarty made quick work of the rest of Sherlock's clothes, until the man was sitting naked on the chair. Moriarty found he had to pause for a minute to admire the man before removing his own clothes and straddling him once more. He leaned his face in like before, his mouth impossibly close to the other man's. Sherlock waits, nerves on edge, for Moriarty to move just a little bit closer-

Sherlock wants to complain at the loss of the kiss that never was, but when Moriarty's lips find his neck once again his complaints die on his lips. He groans, thrusting upwards against Moriarty. This time, he is not disappointed. Moriarty thrusts down against him, at the same time nipping sharply at his neck.

"Please," Sherlock groans, thrusting upwards.

"Hmm?" Sherlock can feel Moriarty's smirk, temporarily interrupting the constant licking, biting, and sucking all over his neck.

"Please, I need-"

Moriarty bit and licked his way up to Sherlock's ear. "What do you need, Sherlock?" he breathed into his ear.

Sherlock shuddered. "I need you…to touch me, please…" he groaned and thrust upwards again. "Please."

Moriarty smirked and nipped at his ear before disappearing again. This time, Sherlock's whimper was not small or easily unnoticeable. He cried out at the loss of contact and strained to regain it once more.

"Patience, my pet." Moriarty came back to Sherlock and set something down on the floor beside him. Sherlock could hear the clicking of a tube opening. However, he waited, and did not feel anything.

He was beginning to get impatient when he heard Moriarty's breathing quicken slightly. He squirmed in his seat, unable to relieve the ache in his groin. He knew exactly when Moriarty added another finger, and then a third, by listening simply to his voice. The blindness was killing him. He couldn't _see_ Moriarty fucking himself on his own fingers, but he could hear it. It was unbearable.

Suddenly, Moriarty's breathing evened out- if only slightly. Sherlock heard him opening a wrapper, and then there were hands on his cock, and it felt so _good, _and Moriarty was unrolling the condom, and he ever so slowly lowered himself onto Sherlock.

Sherlock couldn't be sure who was shaking more. He didn't think it was possible for Moriarty to move any slower- but he did. Finally, he was buried completely inside Moriarty. Moriarty put his hands on Sherlock's shoulders and slowly began to move. The pace was so slow, so painfully, gruelingly slow, but Sherlock couldn't speed up Moriarty no matter how hard he tried. He thrust his hips upward, causing Moriarty to gasp sharply.

"Do that again," he breathed.

Sherlock smirked breathlessly. "This?" he gasped out, snapping his hips upward.

Moriarty groaned again. "Yes, that. Do that." He began to quicken his pace, literally fucking himself on Sherlock's cock at this point. Sherlock keeps thrusting upwards, helping bring Moriarty ever closer to orgasm.

He starts to feel Moriarty beginning to contract around him when his thrusts become erratic, the both of them coming at the same time, their chests covered in Moriarty's come. Moriarty slumps against Sherlock, both of them breathing heavily. He slowly lifts himself off of Sherlock and grabs a towel to clean themselves off with.

"Sherlock, my dear, that was so much fun. I do hope you'll care to join me again sometime."

Sherlock heard Moriarty picking something up, and the next thing he knew there was something sharp poking into his arm. As the drug started to take effect, Sherlock felt everything starting to get fuzzy, his eyes were closing-

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><p>Sherlock woke up in his flat. He was perfectly dressed, lying on the couch. His mind raced as he went over the events of the past few hours.<p>

_John._

He sat up, looking over at the bedroom. The door was closed. Almost without thinking, he jumped up and ran to the room, opening the door.

John was sleeping soundly on the bed.

Sherlock let out a sigh of relief and backed away from the room, sitting back down on the couch. He now had a problem- something that required a lot of thought.

Sherlock glanced down at his phone.

_A week from tomorrow, at noon. Meet me at the usual place. JM_

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><p><strong>AN: What did you guys think? Please review! Since this is my first smut, constructive criticism is appreciated. Please, no hateful comments in the reviews.<strong>

**Thanks for reading and reviewing!**

**Molly**


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